


Always On My Mind

by FilthyKstories



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, yes a character study through masturbation fuck off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9170722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FilthyKstories/pseuds/FilthyKstories
Summary: Fushimi is pining a lot, for a very long timeorFive times Fushimi got off while thinking about Yata and one time he didn't have to





	

**Author's Note:**

> Been wanting to write this for a while now, so here it is!
> 
> Warning: There's an underage character masturbating in here. I didn't wanna tag it as underage because technically nothing bad or illegal is happening, but it does have an underage character in a sexual situation, so I'd feel bad not warning you at all.

It was late at night, he had school tomorrow, and yet Fushimi was wide awake, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. While him not getting enough sleep was nothing new, it was rare that it wasn’t by his own fault for playing videogames. Today he had actually gone to bed on time, yet he couldn’t seem to find any sleep despite being dead tired. All his nerves were on fire, as if they were anticipating something he had no name for. At least he was sure it wasn’t time for that guy to return, so his heart wasn’t beating in fear.

Still, he would’ve known how to deal with that. Whatever this was, it was new, and it was bothering him. He just wanted to go to sleep, it would be so much easier dealing with Misaki’s enthusiasm if he didn’t have a headache. And there’d be less nagging about his health if he didn’t look like he’d faint from exhaustion any minute. But thinking about Misaki didn’t seem to help at all, if anything, it was making his heartbeat speed up.

What the hell was wrong with him? Frustrated, Fushimi threw his cover to the side and sat up, intending to at least spend his time doing something entertaining if he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. The movement made him press his legs together for a short moment though, alerting him to the root of his problem.

Oh. So that was it. Hormones. He turned the lights on and shuffled out of his pyjama pants, finding his cock half-erect between his legs. How annoying. He’d been told in his elementary school health class to expect something like this, and he’d done some research on what to do with it since class had just left it at ‘it’s normal, don’t worry’ but hadn’t provided any solution. Needless to say, the internet had provided more than Fushimi had wanted to see, but at least he knew what to do. He just needed to get it over with and then he could finally go to sleep.

Actually reaching between his legs was still weird though, and he couldn’t help but feel a little silly. He’d obviously touched his dick before, but it had never been like this, and it had never been with the intention of causing pleasure. Mostly because it hadn’t really caused any before.

This time though, even just a slight touch sent shivers up his spine. Okay, maybe this wasn’t so bad. He tentatively closed his hand around the base like he’d seen the people on the internet do and immediately realized they were onto something there. It felt good. Really good. He’d definitely done worse things to pass his time.

Just holding wasn’t quite enough though, so he started moving his hand up and down slowly in a stroking motion. Pleasure shot through his entire body, to the point where it was almost too much, but he couldn’t stop. His hand was moving on autopilot and his hips were rocking toward the touch without Fushimi ever willing them to.

His brain had long since forgotten about any notion to stop anyway, rather providing him with a flurry of images he might find in any way attractive, from the videos he’d seen to the magazine covers in the convenience store. When he reached his peak mere moments later, everything faded to black, leaving a single sentence to resound inside his head.

_‘You’re amazing, Saruhiko!’_

Fushimi rode out his orgasm without any care in the world, moaning freely as he let the pleasant sensations wash over him, for once too far gone to think of hiding all positive emotions or fearing he could lose them.

As quick as the magic came though, it was gone just as easily very soon. Fushimi let himself fall backwards on his bed as his heart finally slowed down and reality began to settle back in. He’d just jerked off for the first time in his life, and now he had to deal with the consequences, like the sticky fluid dripping down his fingers onto the bed. Gross. And had he really come to the thought of Misaki telling him how great he was? Man, that was so lame. How starved for praise did you have to be that you got off to thinking about it? Pathetic.

He clicked his tongue and got up before he could dwell on it too much. Better take care of the clean up fast, then he could go to sleep and hopefully forget this ever happened in the first place.

 

* * *

 

He could hear Misaki’s breathing below him, slow and steady and a constant reminder that he was safe in their own little world, where his precious things wouldn’t be taken away because that man couldn’t reach him and Misaki had promised to stay. It should’ve been all Fushimi needed to relax and drift off to sleep.

And yet he was restless, every little shift Misaki made only adding to the tingling feeling crawling through his veins. It was a familiar feeling by now, but one he hadn’t indulged since moving in with Misaki. They were just always together, there’d never been a good moment to get in some private time. It had barely occurred to him until now anyways, as being together with Misaki was more exhilarating and intense than even the most satisfying orgasm he’d ever had.

His body still demanded attention though, apparently not happy with him prioritizing smiles and aimless conversations over simple pleasure. Fushimi contemplated his options for a while, but eventually got up with a silent groan. Yeah, doing it in his bed would have been more comfortable and convenient, but Misaki was the one washing his sheets now, and that was just not a conversation he wanted to have. Nor did he want to wake Misaki up and be caught with his hand down his pants, even if the chance for that was slim considering how heavy a sleeper Misaki was. Still not worth the risk though, with Misaki’s tendency to overreact whenever he saw something even remotely sexual, it had the potential to make everything awkward really fast.

So Fushimi climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, blinking against the light as he locked the door behind him. This was turning out to be annoying already. He couldn’t even shower, because he’d already done it just a few hours ago, and it would almost definitely wake Misaki up with how thin the walls were, and then he’d have to give an explanation he didn’t have for why he was wasting their water.

_Let’s just get this over with_. Leaning back against the door, he slid the sweatpants he wore to bed down, hissing quietly when the cold air hit his already half-erect cock. He must’ve been way more desperate than he thought if he got turned on just listening to Misaki breathe. Whatever. His hand easily found its way to his dick, teasing the tip before moving down the shaft for a few strokes to get himself going. A moan was already threatening to escape his lips, so he pressed his left hand to his mouth to muffle any sound he might make in the heat of the moment. He had to be careful not to wake Misaki up.

_Misaki…_ Fushimi’s thoughts inadvertently drifted to the boy innocently sleeping on the other side of the door, completely oblivious to what was happening. It sent a spike of arousal straight to Fushimi’s dick, so he let his mind get into further detail without questioning it. He knew what Misaki looked like when he was sleeping, had watched him often enough after he’d woken up from a nightmare or when he just couldn’t seem to fall asleep. One might have argued he looked stupid with his mouth hanging open, but to Fushimi, he just looked open and trusting and peaceful and oh so very vulnerable. It was still a mystery to Fushimi how he could sleep like that, not even holding onto his covers for protection. But it was very much like Misaki, always trying to seem strong yet carelessly revealing his weaknesses to the world.

His hand sped up at the thought and before he knew it, his mind was focusing on completely different aspects of Misaki sleeping. Like the way his lips would glisten slightly from the drool, or how his shirt would ride up to reveal glimpses of the toned body underneath. Almost an invitation to slide your hands under the fabric and discover the rest through touch, maybe make Misaki squirm and sigh in the process until he fell apart…

With a shudder, Fushimi spilt himself onto the floor. His legs were wobbly, so he slid down the door, blankly staring at the mess he’d made between his legs.

All that only registered peripherally though as his mind tried to wrap itself around the fact that he’d just gotten off to less than innocent thoughts about his best friend who was sleeping only a few meters away from him.

Normal people might have been concerned, but to Fushimi, it was only fitting. Misaki was his world, after all. His body reacting so strongly to Misaki’s was only a confirmation that they belonged together in every way, a physical, tangible expression of how his entire being needed absolutely nothing else besides Misaki. As long as they were together, they were invincible. That was how it was supposed to be.

 

* * *

 

It was silent in their apartment, but Fushimi was fine with that. It didn’t matter that Misaki wasn’t there, that he was out with those hoodlums from Homra again. Right now, it played into Fushimi’s hands. It meant he had time, and that he could experiment without any risk of being caught. He didn’t want to give explanations he didn’t have, after all.

Quietly, he pulled out a bottle of lube from a pile of personal belongings right next to his bed, the only place in their apartment Misaki wasn’t allowed to clean. He’d made the purchase just yesterday, keeping a stoic face even when the cashier raised an eyebrow at him. Like he cared what some random person thought, by now he couldn’t even recall their basic traits like age or gender. He’d gotten what he wanted, that was what mattered.

Getting into the shower didn’t take long, and Fushimi decided to wash his hair first, get himself warm and relaxed before starting out. It was better to be relaxed, that was what the internet had said. It’d make it hurt less. Not that it really mattered, nothing big was going in, but he couldn’t help but think it was better to be careful. Just in case.

It was no problem at all to get himself going, by now, it was a well-known routine to Fushimi. All he needed to do was recall anything about Misaki, pump his dick and go from there.

Yes, he made up scenarios in his head now how he and Misaki were having sex. Even if he’d never seen it, it was easy to imagine Misaki’s face contorted with pleasure, his legs trembling as he desperately moaned Fushimi’s name. Misaki was always so expressive… He’d be stunningly gorgeous when brought to orgasm, Fushimi was 100% sure of that. He’d be all flushed and his vision would be hazy, like when he was sick, but with more desperation and pleasure mixed in.

That image was always a giant turn-on, but for some reason, these past few weeks, it hadn’t been enough. That was why he’d bought the lube. He just needed to expand the fantasies. Have them be not just about Misaki – though of course he was still the focal point, nothing else would ever work for Fushimi. Thinking about someone else just sounded ridiculous and unappealing, even in his head. No, the difference was that Misaki got to play an active part in the fantasies.

It was a little bit harder to imagine that, given Misaki’s typical reaction to anything sexual – blushing and running away – but Fushimi’s mind could compromise. He slicked his fingers up with lube as it supplied the perfect image: Misaki, naked, face beet red, but expression determined. Open and earnest as only Misaki could be as he spoke.

_‘I want to make you feel good, Saruhiko.’_

Fushimi slipped a finger in. The sensation was foreign, neither pleasurable nor painful, just… weird. But the imaginary Misaki kept going, not giving up so fast because he never did, so Fushimi kept going too, moving his finger in deeper, trying to find the spot he read about that was supposed to make the whole thing feel incredibly good.

It took him an embarrassing amount of time, and he had to add his longer middle finger, but he did manage to brush his prostrate eventually. A low whine escaped his mouth and Misaki beamed with pride and excitement. Eager as he was, he went straight for it again, abusing the spot over and over again until Fushimi was nothing but a trembling mess, desperately jerking himself off, a mantra of nothing but “Misaki, Misaki, Misaki” on his lips.

Orgasm hit him hard, his vision blurred out and he sank to his knees in complete bliss. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath and slowly come back to reality. It had been incredibly intense, once again Fushimi was astounded just how strong an influence Misaki could have on him just by being himself. Fushimi had no word for it, wasn’t sure one even existed to properly describe it, but it gave him a rushing high like he’d never experienced before.

_Now if only Misaki would actually come home…_

He knew Misaki would most likely be back this evening, to make sure Fushimi ate dinner if nothing else, but somehow it still made him feel incredibly hollow.

 

* * *

 

It hurt. It hurt, everything hurt, and yet he was completely numb. It was all gone, but it shouldn’t matter because he’d destroyed it himself, had chosen to take this path instead of waiting for the inevitable, but it still did. It mattered, and it hurt, and he wasn’t even sure anymore whether he should welcome the occasional numbness or be afraid of it. Was it his goal to get back to it or was he desperately trying to avoid that?

He didn’t know anymore. He knew nothing anymore, nothing except that he could never go back to how it used to be. Fushimi had made sure of that himself.

His world was in shambles, and so was he, but it was okay, because hurt was better than nothing, numbness was better than shattered hope, full-fledged hatred was better than half-assed affection. Or so he told himself, every day a different excuse, every day a different argument to stop him from going back. That would be pointless, he knew that. He was sure. Some parts of his mind just needed to catch up to that conclusion, that was all. It would happen with time. It had to.

It was only a real problem at night anyway, when he was trying to sleep. Alone in his room, without the steady, familiar breathing below him. It was then he realized he was alone, with nothing to distract him except for the soft embrace of sleep that just wouldn’t come, no matter how much he worked himself to exhaustion during the day. Misaki was still haunting him.

So he slid a hand down his pyjama pants and gripped his cock, hoping to lose himself in the world of sweet delusions and not come back until his alarm clock would ring in the morning, so he could concentrate on useful things again instead of lingering in the past or trying to make sense of something as stupid as emotions.

They didn’t come as easy anymore though. No, Misaki would never smile at him again, and he didn’t want it either, it was all fake anyway, none of that had ever been worth anything. At least the physical could stay though, Misaki’s taut thighs were always inviting regardless of what happened between them, his chapped lips and his muscular stomach remained enticing despite everything. There would never come a day where Fushimi could think of Misaki’s body and be unable to come. It was just too perfect, every inch of skin too much to Fushimi’s taste, as if his entire body had been modelled just for the purpose of driving Fushimi crazy.

But the hatred was there, he couldn’t erase it, didn’t feel like he had the right to ignore it even in his wet dreams. Didn’t want to, either. The hatred was real, more real than any sexual fantasy he’d ever had. It was still good, Misaki’s eyes were still on him, burning with an intensity nothing and nobody else on this planet could ever come close to, and Fushimi wanted nothing more than have that focused on him. His hand sped up as he recalled their last encounter, every tiny expression of Misaki’s hatred. His glare, the flames on his fists, and of course, every word that was meant to hurt.

_‘Traitor!’_

What a fool. That didn’t hurt. Or maybe it did, but not in the way it was supposed to. Either way, Fushimi had chosen it, so it was always better than the alternative, being in control would always be better than being helpless, pain was so much easier to bear if you inflicted it on yourself.

At some point, Fushimi’s free hand had found its way to his collarbone without him noticing, and began scratching furiously at the burn wound over his old mark. Misaki had called it a connection, a symbol that they were partners, but it was doomed from the start, there was no point in being partners if they were only connected through Suoh Mikoto. He needed to get rid of it, to get rid of every sign he ever stupidly hoped for something he could never have, so that he wouldn’t be reminded of all the times he swallowed his pride and his anxiety only to be disappointed again.

It was all over now. Pain and pleasure shot through him as he drew blood from the reopened wound and spilt his cum onto the sheets next to him. His breathing finally slowed down.

The fire inside of him was dead, leaving the calming blue aura pulsing through him to lull him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

It was late at night and he had work early tomorrow, yet Fushimi was in high spirits when he stepped into his room in the Scepter 4 dormitories. How couldn’t he be, when he spent almost his entire day off with Misaki? His energy was infectious, and Fushimi had forgotten over the past few years just how exhilarating it felt to have that smile directed at him and him alone.

He needed to ride that high, he decided. The longer he could just feel good without the doubt creeping in again, the better. Opening a drawer on his desk, he pulled out a bottle of lube and a dildo, both already well-used. Not surprising, considering he’d made a habit of getting himself off whenever he had met with Misaki and it went well. Which was becoming more and more frequent ever since the Slate had been destroyed and they’d tentatively started to rekindle their friendship.

Of course, he did it to stretch the good feeling out a bit longer, but there was one more reason. Ever since their reconciliation- no, ever since his betrayal, he hadn’t been able to fantasize anymore. Not coherently, at least. Hoping for things he couldn’t have was just too painful.

Instead, he used his memory. It wasn’t like he needed anything but a vivid recollection of Misaki’s eyes lighting up as soon as he spotted Fushimi in the crowd to get aroused.

He took it slow, carefully preparing himself while he pulled up image after image, all the tiny details he’d noticed during the day. The wind blowing through Misaki’s hair. The annoyingly loud yell Misaki found appropriate when someone bumped into him. The blush creeping up his cheeks when he realized it had been a woman. The way Misaki had licked his lips, a look of utter concentration on his face as he tried to beat Fushimi’s score at the arcade.

Yeah, he was most definitely ready for the dildo now. He coated it in lube, pushed it in, and did his very best to focus on the fact that it was just a dildo. It was cold, and hard, and absolutely not a real dick. And it especially didn’t bear any resemblance to how Misaki’s dick would feel inside him. No more fantasies. No more hope. No more hurt. Things were good the way they were. It was already more than he deserved, more than he ever thought he would have. Now wasn’t the time to be greedy.

Now was the time to focus on the physical pleasure, amplified by his actual, real memories. Fushimi started slowly thrusting the dildo, pumping his dick in time. Misaki talking excitedly about a new videogame that would come out soon. _In._ Misaki saying he wants to play it with Saruhiko. _Out._ Misaki carelessly tossing aside his beanie and ruffling through his messy hair. _It’s just a dildo._ Misaki watching intently as Fushimi carefully takes his first bite of Misaki’s homemade dinner. _Feel the friction._ Misaki plopping down on the couch, stretching comfortably and waving Fushimi over. _Yes, good._ Misaki taking off his sweatshirt, claiming it’s too hot. _More._ Misaki glancing nervously over to Fushimi, a blush spreading noticeably on his face. _Faster._ Misaki slowly moving closer, until his lips are pressed against Fushimi’s. _Harder._ Misaki pushing him down on the couch, slipping his hands under Fushimi’s shirt.

With a muffled groan, Fushimi came onto the sheets of the bottom bunk he’d been using exclusively for this. It was the best orgasm he’d had in a while, but of course, it came with a price.

_Fuck._ Why was he like this? Couldn’t he stick to the rules he’d made for himself? No more fantasies, that had been the deal. And yet his brain had decided to turn that perfectly innocent movie night they’d had into a scenario obviously and inevitably leading to sex.

_‘Y’know, I’m really glad we can hang out together as friends again.’_ Misaki had said that. Today. Right after the movie had ended, while they were just sitting around without talking and Fushimi had wondered whether he had overstayed his welcome and should leave. Friends. The word still made Fushimi’s heart race. After everything he’d done, it felt incredible to hear Misaki using it again. So much so that it was almost terrifying, that he sometimes felt like he wanted to turn around and run away and never let Misaki get close to him ever again. He hit the wall in frustration.

Then why wasn’t it enough?

 

* * *

 

“I got this.”

Fushimi merely raised an eyebrow in response. With how straightforward he was, Fushimi didn’t doubt a lot of what Misaki said, but given that he couldn’t even properly meet Fushimi’s eyes and was beet red from nothing but a few chaste kisses, the evidence was piling up against him.

“No, really! I-I know how it goes, okay? I’m prepared. See?” Misaki dug into his pockets to pull out a bottle of lube, shoving it into Fushimi’s face with a determined expression.

Well, that was… unexpected. Perpetual virgin Misaki had actually managed to do some research or seek advice concerning sex, and even gay sex in particular. Sure, it shouldn’t have been a big hurdle, and it did nothing to guarantee Misaki would actually be able to apply any of it given how stiff he was, but Fushimi still couldn’t help but be impressed. Just a little. That Misaki would do that for him…

“And the condom?”

That caught Misaki off guard. “Huh? Why would we need one? Guys can’t get pregnant. Won’t that just be in the way?”

As expected, his knowledge was pretty limited. Fushimi would’ve been surprised if it had been different. They’d skipped health class in middle school together after all – on Misaki’s request, but Fushimi found it useless anyway – and it wasn’t like the workings of gay sex were a regularly discussed topic. In fact, health class would likely not have mentioned it at all, even if they had attended.

“It’s for STDs,” Fushimi gave the shortest possible answer as he moved to get one out of the nightstand. He’d bought them right after he got together with Misaki, along with some lube he figured he wouldn’t be needing now. Back then, he’d berated himself for hours for expecting too much, his head full of doubts their relationship would last long enough to get to this point.

But here they were, and it didn’t seem like Misaki was gonna leave anytime soon. No, he was even barging forward into completely uncharted territory, for both of them. It made warmth spread through Fushimi’s chest and his blood rush lower, in the way only Misaki could do.

The explanation seemed good enough for Misaki – though Fushimi couldn’t help but wonder if he’d actually understood or if he simply went along with it so he wouldn’t make even more of a fool out of himself. As if he actually had anything to lose and Fushimi’s expectations of his proficiency at and knowledge at sex weren’t already at absolute zero. As if it even mattered. If Fushimi had wanted someone to properly seduce him and then expertly bring him to orgasm, he wouldn’t have chosen Misaki anyway. He didn’t exactly know yet what exactly the point of doing this was, but physical pleasure wasn’t it. At least not entirely. Fushimi’s expectations were moderate to low in that regard, but a sense of excitement had crept into his veins anyway, waiting for… _something._

Misaki ripped the condom from his hand and pushed Fushimi down on the bed to draw him into a rough and passionate kiss. A desperate attempt to distract from his blunder. But Fushimi had to admit that it worked, his head began swimming as his breath was sucked out from him and his entire body went taut from having Misaki lie on top of him. They were still clothed, but his nerves were set on fire even by the dulled contact.

Apparently Misaki became aware of that too, seeing as he immediately lifted himself off Fushimi again, making space for his hands to unbutton Fushimi’s vest. As much as the thought was appreciated, Fushimi couldn’t help but arch up a little in a futile and frankly embarrassing attempt to regain that warmth surrounding him.

At least Misaki paid it no mind, too busy fumbling with the buttons of Fushimi’s uniform shirt. He was getting impatient, which resulted in him taking longer with every button. It was stupid and getting downright ridiculous at the last two – how could anyone past the age of three take so goddamn long to open a single button? - but still it was kind of… cute.

Then finally the shirt was open and Fushimi willingly shuffled around a bit to help Misaki remove it. Instead of getting more for suffering through that ordeal though, Misaki pulled back, even breaking their kiss. He was flushed and panting already, his eyes roaming over the skin he’d so painstakingly laid open. Without wasting any time, he pulled his sweatshirt and the black tank top he wore underneath over his head in one go, carelessly throwing them to the floor so his attention could remain on the boy lying beneath him.

“So forward~,” Fushimi teased, but it was more of a self-defence mechanism, designed to distract both of them from the nervous flatter in Fushimi’s chest and the red that was starting to creep into his cheeks. He couldn’t help it, Misaki sitting on top of him without a shirt, eyes roaming over his body, it did all kinds of things to him. Things he couldn’t quite understand and had no desire to dissect. Instead, he followed Misaki’s example and lowered his gaze to his boyfriend’s torso, taking in the lean muscle and pert nipples that made up his chest. It had been a while since he’d seen Misaki like this, so his mind immediately went to cataloguing every change, every scar and imperfection their years apart had etched into Misaki’s skin.

Thankfully, he didn’t get very far, as Misaki leant down again to reunite their lips. “Shut up”, he breathed between kisses, and Fushimi complied. Not much of a task when you were horny and your hot, shirtless boyfriend was kissing you, really.

The heat was going up now, every little touch sending a spark of arousal through Fushimi’s body. And they were both letting their hands roam freely, so there was a lot of touch. Fushimi’s pants were slowly starting to feel tighter than could be called comfortable. He arched his hips up, confirming that Misaki wasn’t doing any better than him. It was surprisingly pleasurable though, and it elicited a loud gasp from Misaki, making him break the kiss.

With a surge of confidence, Fushimi moved his hands to the hem of Misaki’s trousers, opening the fly in a few swift motions and pulling them down without warning. Misaki took that as a challenge, his hands hastily moving to do the same to Fushimi. He brushed harshly against what was underneath in his hurry, and Fushimi couldn’t help the small whine that escaped his mouth. That had felt so good…

Misaki was grinning victoriously as if he’d planned to do that – Fushimi would bet everything though that he hadn’t. At least, Misaki didn’t have any time to be embarrassed, and used the opportunity to pull down both Fushimi’s pants and boxers.

There was a certain relief in his erection being freed from its confines, but Fushimi was suddenly hyperaware that Misaki was looking at him. Normally, having that intense gaze focused on him was exhilarating, but right now all it did was make him feel self-conscious. Did it look weird? Was it too small? Should he have shaved? He had no idea where these doubts came from, but all of a sudden, he was completely convinced Misaki had to be disappointed with what he saw. Something was off, he just knew it, and it was only a matter of time-

Misaki tentatively reached forward, closing his hand around Fushimi’s cock. Instinctively, Fushimi thrust into, chasing the pleasure that warm pressure was promising him.

“Shit, you look amazing…”

Fushimi’s thoughts reeled to a halt at that. There was such honesty behind that statement, Misaki had spoken in pure surprise, in that typical fashion of his where he just said whatever came to his mind without any consideration of the consequences. It was stupid, and careless, and it served to completely quash all of Fushimi’s worries. _It’s Misaki, so of course he’d think like that… How stupid to even worry._

Now Misaki went to grab the lube he’d placed beside him earlier, and anticipation crawled up Fushimi’s throat again. They were actually going to do this. Misaki was carefully spreading the lube on his fingers, brows creased in concentration. When he was done, he looked to Fushimi for confirmation.

“I got this,” he said, again. No false bravado behind it anymore, just a mumbled statement meant to soothe. Fushimi simply nodded in response, spreading his legs a little to urge Misaki on.

Misaki gulped noticeably, but still moved his gaze downwards and began prodding at Fushimi’s entrance. The first finger slipped in quite easily, not much of a surprise given how often Fushimi had done this to himself the past weeks, with Misaki constantly close to him but still out of reach. It didn’t hurt at all, and Fushimi used Misaki’s careful probing to compare the experiences. The angle was different, and Misaki’s finger was a bit thicker than his own. It wasn’t quite as long, but with the better position, it felt practically the same.

He rocked back against the finger pretty much immediately, showing off that he enjoyed it and wanted more, and that Misaki didn’t have to worry about hurting him. Still, Misaki drew it out a little before giving in and adding a second finger that he then used to stretch Fushimi out further with scissoring motions. That confirmed for Fushimi that Misaki had actually actively done research on how to do this, not just overheard a few things or given up after two sentences. God, knowing Misaki, that must’ve taken him forever, but he’d done it anyway. He’d tried. He always tried so hard for Fushimi, and he’d never understood _why_ -

One of Misaki’s fingers brushed against Fushimi’s prostate, and all logical thought was wiped from his mind for a moment. His panting had turned into a moan at some point, but Fushimi didn’t care anymore. He’d waited long enough. He needed more, right now.

“Misaki,” he breathed out, slowly moving back from him but spreading his legs even wider to show what he wanted. That got even through Misaki’s thick skull and his face turned the deepest shade of crimson of this evening yet, but he withdrew his fingers without comment and moved to take off his boxers.

His erection sprung free, and Fushimi could totally understand now why Misaki had been staring so intently earlier. It was… fascinating. He’d seen Misaki’s cock before, years ago, but never in its aroused state. Probably nobody besides Misaki had ever seen this. It made him feel special, in a weird way. Shit, he really needed to get it on, Fushimi’s own cock was throbbing hard just from looking.

Currently though, Misaki’s attention wasn’t on him, it was on the little condom package Fushimi had given him earlier. He’d managed to rip it open and get the condom out, but he gave it a puzzled look, as if he was trying to figure out how to use it exactly. When he noticed Fushimi staring though, he quickly moved to put it on.

_The wrong way around_. Man, Fushimi should have made him attend health class after all, _that_ would have been in it.

Before the idiot could completely fuck it up, Fushimi sat up, wordlessly took the condom out of his hand, turned it around and slid it on Misaki’s cock himself. He put on his best deadpan face as he placed the lube back into Misaki’s hands and laid back down.

Misaki grinned sheepishly, but obediently slicked up his cock anyway. He let out a series of breathy moans in the process just from the light touches, and if Fushimi would’ve had any hope that Misaki would last a decent amount of time, he’d have to bury it now.

Probably blissfully unaware of that shortcoming, Misaki finished his task and lined himself up with Fushimi’s entrance. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna- do it, now,” he stuttered out.

Fushimi rolled his eyes. Behaving like a virgin until the very last second he had the right to, huh? “Go ahead,” he answered simply. Misaki nodded, and pushed forward, slowly, until his entire dick was sheathed inside of Fushimi.

That hurt a little. Misaki’s dick had been bigger than he’d anticipated, and it felt a lot larger than it had looked. That was good though. Fushimi liked a slight edge of pain, and he liked being filled even more. Misaki only gave him a brief pause to adjust before he began thrusting, slow at first and then gradually getting faster.

At this moment, realization hit. He was having sex with Misaki. This was real. It wasn’t a fantasy he’d made up to get off. It wasn’t a dream. It was reality. It was actually happening, right now, at this very moment. Misaki had his dick in him. Misaki was moaning, face scrunched up in pleasure as he moved in and out, chasing orgasm. He’d waited so long for this, fantasized about it regularly for years, and now-

Misaki hit his prostrate, and Fushimi’s entire world turned to stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me about anything K or smut related on my tumblr filthykmusings!


End file.
